Batgirl Feet Novels & Stories

She’s perfect. All mine. Every inch of her, inside and out. Moving down her body, I rub her feet. She has a dancer’s feet—narrow with a high bridge. The arches are pronounced. She was made for wearing heels or walking on her toes. With the pink polish on her toenails, her small foot in my big hand is overwhelmingly feminine. I pull away the covers and push her legs wide apart. Just as a precaution, in case she wakes too soon, I use the belts of the twin robes in the bathroom to tie her wrists to the bedpost. I don’t want her to hurt herself in a panic.

Sue suddenly asks, pointing a finger at someone. We all look up and our jaws drop when we see Ashley gracefully walking towards us. Instead of a vampire suit, she is wearing a leather bra, pushed up to accentuate cleavage. She pairs it with a black pants and boots. She even has a whip on her hand. Everybody in the entire room turns to look at her. It’s pretty obvious she likes the attention she’s getting since she even blows them a kiss. “Hey girls!” she says too brightly. “You’re Catwoman,” Pam says accusingly. “I thought you’re going to be Bella Swan for tonight?”

That helpless, livid glare. I took a wrist in each hand and lowered her arms to the side. I would have met with more resistance from a Barbie doll. Not that Barbie could have covered her chest in the first place. Taylor and Barbie. Tall, long-legged, big-breasted and beautiful. Cheap, posable, biddable, and physically incapable of covering themselves. They had a lot in common.

I stated. The Fayte’s have bigger feet. Only little Delilah could fit into the flats I’d given her. “I can’t wear these.” Crista frowned. “Looks like you and I got big feet.” Persephone smiled, shrugging as she wiggled her bare toes on the carpet.

We could only try to soften the blow. Katia moved closer to me; her bare feet were silent on the wooden floor. Her long black hair flowed down her back like a curtain of midnight silk. She wore fitted denim jeans and a cropped white cashmere sweater that clung to her slender frame. I noticed, not for the first time, that she was barefoot like the other Lunas. Did they coordinate these things like a secret club? I almost smiled at the thought, but the moment didn’t allow for levity. A knock broke through the silence.

No, not this again! As if my body was on its own, I took off my heels and quickly climbed the wall barefoot. It wasn’t easy, but it was something I learned to master when you’re locked up without any contact in an enclosed stables and all you want to do is see at least the light of day. I need to go home, and climbing has never been easier when you’re wearing latex like catwoman. “Shit, this is way too hard.” I mutter to myself, my foot keeps slipping on the callous bricks.

She walked with perfection, showing me how to glide, skip, run a little while still on heels. I wonder how she does that, she literally just skipped with a rope wearing heels, I couldn't even do that for a million dollars. "Posture, Kate! Chin up! One foot in front of the other!" "I’m going to break something! It feels like I'm walking on thin ice." "Preferably not your ankles, and that's the goal, let your feet do the talking for you." she quipped. We collapsed onto the bed after what felt like hours. I’d fallen twice, once on a pile of pillows and once on Evelyn.

And finally, she stepped into the heavy, rugged combat boots she had scraped together every last coin to buy—footwear designed for harsh terrain and punishing labor. The boots were startlingly heavy. When she lowered her weight onto them, a dull, solid thud echoed through the room. Unlike light sneakers, these boots were built with thick rubber lug soles and reinforced steel toes, intended for tracking through the dense, unforgiving wilderness of the northern mountains. They instantly added an inch or two to her height, but more importantly, they completely transformed her physical presence. Instead of the light, hesitant steps of a timid girl, she now planted her feet with a heavy, delibera

"The 'power' walk at the dress shop yesterday?" I asked. "Yes." Rachel said as she looked at my bags and pulled out a box, "You are going to do that with these." She said and pulled out a pair of thick black heels. My eyes widened as I looked at the thick heel and the small tip in the front. It was closed toes, which I was thankful for. A thin black strap, and these shoes could be considered a death trap.

The Rising Tide Lolita's POV Miles away in the subterranean dark, I walked barefoot across the rusted grating of an elevated catwalk. The temperature had plummeted. The freezing, damp air bit at my exposed skin. My liquid onyx gown, which had made me look like a goddess in the Conservatory, was now a heavy, impractical liability. The thigh slit gave me some mobility, but the long train dragged across the rust and grime, catching on the jagged metal floor.